


Cards on the Table

by ShowMeAHero



Category: Frankenstein & Related Fandoms, Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and they're cute, henry and victor are housemates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:55:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2452121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's early, and PopTarts really aren't a proper breakfast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cards on the Table

**Author's Note:**

> Jamie, who lives down my hall, asked for a story where Victor and Henry live in the same house, like we do. This is for her.
> 
> Title taken from "All of Me" by John Legend.

“Hey,” Victor greeted tiredly as he entered the kitchen, rubbing one hand over his face. Henry raised his head from his book and grinned.

“Good morning!” Henry exclaimed. He held up one of the PopTarts on his plate. “Want one?”

Victor hesitated, then came closer and took the seat across from Henry at the small kitchen table. Henry reached out, took Victor’s wrist in one hand, lifted it into the air, and tapped his closed fist with the edge of the PopTart until he opened his hand. Henry placed the PopTart in his palm.

“Thank you,” Victor said after a moment. Henry released his wrist, his expression surprised, as though he had not even realized he was still holding on. He turned his attention to the book he had open on the table beside his plate, his cheeks flushed. Victor chewed at the PopTart and watched him as he read. Victor had a single on the third floor, but Henry had a roommate and lived on the first floor. Whereas Victor preferred to stay in by himself, Henry often went out to dinner, went out to parties, hung out in the hallways. Spent time with other people. He would often stop by, though, asking if Victor wanted to do this or that, if he wanted company, if he wanted to come downstairs and watch a movie with him. Victor was not sure why Henry paid him so much attention, but he was damn glad for it.

It was still relatively early - both of them had eight a.m. classes, which meant it was way too early to be living - and Henry’s appearance reflected that. His hair was falling around his face in bed-tangled strawberry-blonde curls. He had large, thick, square, black glasses; he must wear contacts the rest of the time, because Victor had never seen these before. He was swinging his short legs, his bare feet barely reaching the cold floor. He was still in his pajamas, which, today, apparently consisted of plaid, pink-and-purple boxers, and a blue tank top with some sort of picture on it that Victor could not make out through Henry’s curtain of hair. This choice of pajamas left a lot of densely freckled skin for Victor’s gaze to skim over as he watched Henry read. Every now and then, Henry would lift his remaining half-eaten PopTart to his mouth and take a peculiarly small bite. Victor found it endearing, and chose not to pull apart the reasoning as to why right at this moment, saving it instead for later, in the safety of his room.

Henry lifted his eyes, caught Victor’s immediately, and his cheeks turned bright red. When Victor just stared back and took the last bite of his PopTart, the flush spread down to his neck and chest, beneath his top. He straightened up, pushed his hair over his shoulders, and Victor finally got to see the design his shirt. It was a picture of Stitch from Lilo & Stitch surfing. Victor smiled, just a little bit, but it was enough to make Henry grin and straighten up further.

“What’s with you this morning?” Henry teased, folding over the corner of his page and shutting his book gently. He lifted his PopTart up in both hands and looked at Victor over the edge of it.

“You look good,” Victor blurted; he then looked immediately frightened, as though he had not expected the words to come out of his own mouth. Henry raised a light eyebrow at him and put his PopTart down.

“What?” Henry asked, after a beat of silence. Victor briefly contemplated lying, running, and/or hiding, but dismissed them all.

“You look… good,” Victor repeated hesitantly. Henry stared at him for a minute before laughing and leaning back in his chair. Victor frowned. “What? What are you laughing at?”

“You look like I’m about to stab you in the face,” Henry informed him, picking up his PopTart again and finishing it in one large bite. Victor watched the motion of his throat. “You’ve gotta calm down, my friend.”

“I just…” Victor shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize!” Henry insisted. “I very much appreciate your compliment. Thank you, Victor. Even if I do look like a slob-”

“You don’t-”

“It’s good to know someone enjoys it,” Henry finished. He winked at Victor and stood. “What time is it?”

Victor pulled his phone out of the pocket of his pajama pants. “Seven-fourteen. Why?”

“I have to leave for class by seven-fifty,” Henry stated, pushing his chair in. “Let me get dressed, and we can get some real breakfast before I have to go. If you’d like.”

Victor stared at him, processing the question-phrased-as-a-statement. He stood abruptly once he understood, his chair scraping backwards across the linoleum.

“I would love that,” Victor answered, slightly too loudly, but Henry just smiled up at him.

“Give me a couple minutes,” Henry instructed, grabbing his book and vanishing from the kitchen. Victor immediately smoothed down his hair and straightened his glasses as soon as Henry was out of sight. He looked around the kitchen for something reflective and ended up settling for the broken toaster. It was here, trying to check his own reflection in the toaster, that Henry found him when he returned. Henry burst into laughter, and Victor dropped the toaster to the counter with a sad _clang_.

“You’re too much,” Henry commented, breathless with laughter. He had changed into a flowery, flowing top and tight jeans. His glasses were gone. Victor stared at his body, then his face, incredulous. Henry started laughing harder, doubling over, bracing his hands on his knees. “You always look like I’m about to freak out on you, Victor, holy _shit_.”

“You look _really_ good,” Victor said, watching him laugh with something akin to- something nameless, Victor had no idea. He had never felt it before. Henry finally settled down. He grinned at Victor and adjusted the straps of his backpack over his shoulders.

“We’ve upgraded to ‘really good’,” Henry remarked, holding out his hand expectantly. Victor paused, wondering whether or not he was supposed to do what he _thought_ he was supposed to do. Henry wiggled his fingers. Victor stepped up and took Henry’s small hand in his own. “Let’s see how far we can get it to go.”

“I’ll need a thesaurus,” Victor half-joked back, and Henry looked surprised as he led them out of the house and down the front steps.

“Was that a joke?” he asked, playing at shock. “From Victor Frankenstein? Did you just make a _joke_?”

“Not really,” Victor replied, flexing his fingers in Henry’s, as though testing the reality of the whole thing. “I probably will.”

“You’re too much,” Henry commented, pulling him across the street at a jog to the breakfast hall. Victor watched him from behind, his hair tugged back haphazardly, his white skin bright in the sun, his freckles standing out orange. He turned back to Victor and squeezed his hand. “What’re you staring at? Let’s go.”

Victor nodded and followed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Here's Henry's [pajama top](http://hottopic.scene7.com/is/image/HotTopic/10178587_hi?%24newht_product_lg%24) and [pajama bottoms](http://cdnb.lystit.com/photos/2013/11/08/old-navy-navy-pink-plaid-plus-printed-flannel-boxers-3-12-product-1-14773435-458080704_large_flex.jpeg), and here's his [flowery shirt](https://img1.etsystatic.com/033/0/8317222/il_340x270.613520617_54pz.jpg) and his [pants](http://media1.rankandstyle.com/products/7/7-for-all-mankind-the-slim-illusion-skinny-jeans-in-stark-white.jpg), if you wanted to see. What a fly guy.
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicoIodeon](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
